


The Ad in the Sunday Paper

by lar_laughs



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Community: writerverse, F/M, Poetry, steve rides a cool bike
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-23
Updated: 2013-03-23
Packaged: 2017-12-06 06:02:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/732250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lar_laughs/pseuds/lar_laughs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy keeps hoping for an opening to tell Steve how she feels. This was not how she envisioned it happening. (I feel suddenly obliged to let you know up front that this is a couplet poem even if it is a tongue-in-cheek attempt at a story)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ad in the Sunday Paper

**Author's Note:**

> The challenge was to write a poem using couplets. So I did. I don't take myself too seriously as a poet so this is sort of crack but I could totally see this being the way that Darcy and Steve finally hook up.

When Darcy went out to shop for shoes,  
her pocketbook on her shoulder, loose.  
The ad ripped from the paper today  
told her of percentages she would pay  
and so she traipsed along the street,  
a grin to even her eyes did reach.

The man, clad in blackened mask,  
ran past her fast, hands on task.  
When first she felt the annoying tug  
she screamed to all, “Help! A thug!”  
Did anyone respond to her cry?  
Did anyone run after the bad guy?

But, hark! Here comes someone fast.  
A bug? A beast? A knight, at last?  
She saw the shield’s blazened star  
and knew that help wasn’t far.  
“He’s got my purse,” she cried loudly  
He nodded, doing his work proudly.

“Don’t worry, ma’am. I’ll bring it back,”  
he cried as he kicked onto the track.  
“Stay where you are, I’ll come to you.”  
“Ma’am?” she groused, feeling blue.  
“It never fails. He’ll never guess.  
I love him but he could care less.”

Now this the gathered crowd did hear  
And they gaped at her every tear.  
“She loves the Captain,” someone sighed,  
thinking it was sweet that she cried.  
“Don’t you know he’s not that sort,”  
said another woman with a snort.

“All I wanted was this shoe sale  
so I don’t have to use the mail.  
Is that too much to ask of life?  
A little normal instead of strife?”  
No one answered Darcy’s query  
as they debated whether Cap would marry.

With dejected step, she left the group  
to their discussions on the stoop.  
There would be no sale. No shoes for her.  
Perhaps tomorrow, she did concur.  
In her moment of darkest dismay,  
a gleam of hope ran her way.

The blue and red costumed figure  
came toward her with greatest vigor.  
“I’m over here.” She waved her hand  
until he stopped, coming to stand  
in front of her with the loot.  
“Is this yours?” She was mute.

“Darcy, I found it.” And then he grinned  
shaking her purse, leather trimmed.  
“Won’t you answer? Don’t you see?”  
His face fell, losing it’s glee.  
In that moment, it was so clear.  
If nothing else, he did still care.

“Thank you, Steve,” she started to say  
but stopped herself, still full of dismay.  
Instead, she stood as tall as she might  
stroking his cheek, feather-light.  
His gift from her would be a kiss.  
Their first one. She mustn’t miss.

At first, she wondered at her gall.  
Maybe she should have rethought this stall  
and just given him a proper handshake  
because this felt like a horrible mistake.  
The audience was murmuring at her attack  
and Steve wasn’t really kissing her back.

When she tried to break her hold,  
afraid that she had been too bold,  
his hands came to rest on her hip.  
It felt nice and she didn’t trip  
as he moved them both back inside  
away from the angry mob’s diatribe.

“Thank you,” he whispered with a glance.  
“I never thought you’d give me a chance  
to give you so much as a peck  
without getting mad and leaving a wreck.”  
“A wreck?” she asked, clearly confused.  
“You’re Captain America. How could I refuse?”

“It’s just a costume. It’s only a trick.”  
His face had paled, as if he were sick.  
“I’m so much more than this flag-bearing fool  
but people only see it, as a rule.  
I was hoping you wouldn’t be like that  
but it’s okay if you’re just a stat.”

She slapped him, her anger still flaring.  
“Is this why the rumors about you marrying  
have been flying around the whole city?  
You’ve assumed that every old biddy  
is out for a kiss from your fabled lips  
and that I’m just one of the horrible drips?”

Her finger pointed to his chest, steady.  
“I don’t love you because you’re ready  
to be the champion of all the downtrodden.  
Just leave me here, crying and maudlin  
if that’s what you assume I’m like.  
Perhaps I only love you for your bike.”

Her tone was bitter but still he smiled.  
“You’re not one to keep the mood mild.  
Tell me, sweetheart, is it my ride?  
Is that the charm that keeps you by my side?”  
This time, he started the deep kiss.  
She let him with only a small hiss.

It took a hoodlum to bring them together  
but now she was pressed against the leather  
of his costume, in the midst of his grip.  
It was a decent start to a long relationship.  
Darcy rolled her eyes, irritated but happy.  
“Stupid boy. You’re so sappy.”


End file.
